


eyes like sky

by ForYou_InSilence



Series: Futile Devices [2]
Category: Actor RPF, Call Me By Your Name (2017) RPF
Genre: Angst, M/M, Mutual Pining, These two are in love, Unresolved Romantic Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension, happy ot3, if you are looking for, you will not find it here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-24
Updated: 2018-01-24
Packaged: 2019-03-08 19:15:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13464780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ForYou_InSilence/pseuds/ForYou_InSilence
Summary: A series of behind-the-scenes vignettes during the time between Timmy's birthday and the Palm Springs Film Festival awards.What led up to the phone call Armie made to Timmy, now from Armie's POV.ETA: Can't believe I failed to comment on today's Oscar noms. So happy, and oddly proud, of Timmy for Best Actor. It is so deserved and my every prayer goes out to whatever deity will listen to allow for him to win. But poor Armie was robbed. Timmy's Elio does not exist without Armie's Oliver.





	eyes like sky

**Author's Note:**

> This is not an anti-Elizabeth fic. That being said, this is an honest look at a marriage that might have problems. Don't shoot the messenger.
> 
> For my Scarlet Gassy Morto crew: 6, rainbowdazzle, littlelovebomb, me-notokay and theanticipationofitall. You guys are the best cheerleaders ever. Don't know what I'd do without you all. ;)

I said "I wish you could see the ocean"

He said "I wish you could see hope"

I said "have you ever seen the mountain?"

He said "no, but my faith could move those"

Ohhh woah

I said "I wish you could see the stars"

He told me I should see love

**_Eyes Like Sky_ , Frank Ocean**

* * *

 

 

_ "Miss you." _

Timmy’s words were barely audible— testament to how hard it was for him to confess. Armie wouldn’t have been certain he heard them at all, if he hadn’t watched through the screen of his phone as they formed, fell, from the pillow-soft perfection of Timmy’s lips. Watched as they tumbled, borne of truth and a pain only the two of them understood but never fully comprehended.

They were a solid one-two punch to Armie’s solar plexus.

“God, Tea,” the words tore from Armie’s chest; speaking was like dying. “I can’t- You have no idea.  _ No idea _ .”

_ Armie was just out of the shower. Towel tied low around his hips, another roughly going to town on his hair as he entered the bedroom from the en suite. He yawned, jaw cracking with the force, as he tossed the towel into the hamper by the door.  _

_He was tired. Jet-lagged. Soul-weary. This holiday season seemed never-ending as they were always manic, frantic times for the Chambers/Hammer clan._ _Back and forth between California and Colorado and Texas. It was a lot of family togetherness, with tired, travel-weary children, over-stimulated at every turn. Armie would have preferred holidays spent at their own home, with a quiet and sombre holiday experience, but Elizabeth lived for the extravagance and traditions on a grand-scale— excessive and unnecessary to the true meaning of the season. So there they were, steeped in matching Christmas pjs; a Norman Rockwell perfection that chafed Armie’s sensibilities at every turn._

_ Every last minute was planned to within an inch of its life. Today’s agenda consisted of skiing after breakfast, lunch in town, shopping, back to the house for sledding with the kids until they headed back to town for dinner and drinks. It had been non-stop since they’d arrived from Texas three days earlier. _

_ If Armie could have his way, he would stay in, play on the floor with Hops and Ford, maybe venture out to build a snowman (or as close a facsimile a lump of compacted snow by two toddlers could manage).  _

_ It didn’t help all this holiday madness coincided with the heaviest leg of film promotion. Armie tried in vain to tamp down the guilt he had, as he thought of the day ahead, wishing he didn’t look forward to the next leg of promo more than the idea of scheduled family activities.  _

_ True, the press junkets and screening Q&As were exhausting,  time-consuming and not a lot of fun when you’ve been asked the same set of questions for the 100th time, but there was at least a sense of spontaneity to them. He never knew what question would be next, how he would bounce off Timmy’s responses, or some off-hand comment from Luca would bring forth a new memory or trigger some amazing anecdote. _

_ He was ready for some downtime, though, from _  all _the hustle and bustle_ . _  Especially his upcoming weekend trip to visit Timmy in NYC for his birthday. It wasn't entirely a pleasure trip. He was taking advantage of being in town, meeting with his agent there. With his upcoming play, there was always a need to keep in touch. But other than a lunch meeting on Saturday, the rest of the weekend was free. No need for schedules. No appearances. A couple of days to unwind, take a deep breath before the grind of the last leg of promoting the film got under way.  _

_ Yeah. That was all it was. It was. . .nice, when he and Timmy were together, conversation was never forced, silences were never uncomfortable. _

_ From the moment he and Timmy had met, it was as if they'd known each other forever. Armie had never experienced anything so— easy. _

_ He was not counting down the hours. _

_ Armie wasn't blind to the dichotomy where the lack of spontaneity and the minute by minute planning of their life was smothering him. Armie was also self-aware enough to recognise this wasn’t a new feeling. He wasn’t immune to the little voice in the back of his head that had started getting louder over the past few years. Things had changed.  _

He _ had changed. But he wasn’t the only one. _

_ “Good morning, husband,” Elizabeth chirped brightly as she swept into the room. She was already dressed in her ski outfit, make-up and hair done as if she'd just stepped off the pages of Town & Cointry. She went straight to the closet and began pulling clothes out for Armie, laying them across the bed as she went. _

_ “Good morning,” he dropped his towel, kissing her cheek before grabbing the boxer briefs she’d left for him. “Kids up?” _

_ He sat on the edge of the bed, pulling on a pair of thick wool socks. _

_ “Up and fed and with the nanny.” _

_ “Already? Fuck, what time is it? You should have got me up when you did. I was hoping to spend a little time with them before we head out.” Armie looked around to the bedside clock, it was only 8:16.  _

_ “It’s okay, you would have gotten them all riled up and they wouldn’t have wanted us to leave.” _

_ Midway pulling on his pants, he froze, staring  at her. Was he supposed to feel  _ bad _ for wanting to spend time with his kids? He  _ hoped _ they preferred being with him over the nanny. God knew he hated that they spent so much time with people that weren’t their parents as it was.  _

_ Their biggest fights were always over never being home. Armie had never had the mindset that the ‘little woman’ should stay home, raising the kids, but, it had been a discussion they’d had before the decision was made to have kids. It was part and parcel of Armie’s job to be away. It couldn’t be helped if he were to continue doing what he loved. So the discussion had been held, the pros and cons listed, the consequences and sacrifices both were going to have to make and Liz had been completely onboard.  _

_ She wanted him to succeed just as much as he did.  _

_ But, somewhere along the way, things had changed. The bakery became two. Liz began making more and more of her own public appearances, and guest appearances on television. Armie was proud of her; so proud. But at what price was all this taking on their kids? Dragging them all over; racking up more frequent flyer miles than a businessman. _

_ It was Armie’s biggest fear— was he doing right by his kids? Could all the love and adoration he lavished on them when he was home, be enough to make up for all the times he wasn’t?  _

_ And she  _ knew  _ that. She knew his history, how he had been raised. She knew that being a  _ good  _ parent was important to him. It felt like salt in a wound and he wasn’t even sure she was aware of it. _

_ “Besides, I figured you could use an extra few minutes. The way you were tossing them back last night,” Liz’s voice sounded cheery enough as she turned away, but Armie couldn’t see her face. She didn’t like his drinking and never missed an opportunity to tell him so. _

_ Armie grunted, and pulled his pants the rest of the way up. “Your brothers weren’t slackers either, you know.” _

_ Liz merely shrugged and opened a drawer in the big oak dresser on the far side of the room. It was a monstrosity that nearly took up an entire wall. An antique her mother had shipped over from a 17th century French estate. Pretentious.  _

_ Her smile was wide as she walked over to Armie, handing him an envelope.  _

_ “What’s this?”   _

_ “We’ll call it a ‘New Year’ present.” _

_ Armie felt a wrinkle form in his brow at the emphasis she placed on ‘new year’. He was pretty sure she wasn’t referring to the upcoming holiday. _

_ “Since when is that a thing we do?” He was going for light, but knew he missed  by a mile. Nothing was light between them anymore. It always felt like they were having two different conversations. Or that they no longer spoke the same language. _

_ She just looked at him, eyes wide and expectant as she waited for him to open the envelope. _

_ With a sigh, he sat on the edge of the bed as he slid his finger beneath the sealed flap, tearing it open. Inside was a printed page detailing flight reservations. _

_ He looked up at her, the question clear in the lines of his face. _

_ She sat next to him, placed her hand on his knee. _

_ “I thought we could use some time away.” _

_ “Isn’t that what we’re doing here?” he motioned with a broad sweep of his hand to the room they were in.  _

_ He looked at the page again, the words were an indecipherable swirl- _

**_Grand Cayman. December 28, 2017_ **

_ “Armie, an extended family holiday is not a vacation,”  her voice was soft now, but tinted with familiar admonishment. He’d heard her use that same tone with the kids.  _

_ “Look, I know things have been off lately. Since-”  _

_ He knew what she was insinuating. Yes, things had changed since making the film, but they both knew that hadn’t been the beginning of when things had started feeling different, so he let it slide, not wanting to get into that argument again. _

_ “So, I thought this would be nice. The perfect opportunity. You haven’t been back-” _

_ “Yeah, I know. There’s good reason for that, you know. Liz, seriously,” his head was suddenly pounding; hadn’t had enough water. He rubbed his eyes with the palms of both hands before shoving them back through his wet hair. His sigh was a gust of stale, tired air. “You  _ know _ why I haven’t gone back.” _

_ Her answering sigh was filled with frustration. It lit a spark of rage within him. _

_ “It’s time you move on-” _

_ “Move on? Jesus.” _

_ He was on his feet. He couldn’t sit there another second, pacing to stand in front of the window. The sun was blinding, a white-hot brightness bouncing off the endless stretch of snow.  _

_ He’d never been a fan of the cold. _

_ “You know the kids love the beach. After all the snow, I thought it would be fun to get them in the sun.” _

_ “Shouldn’t we have maybe, I don’t know, discussed this together?” _

_ She waved his question away.  “I know your dad is excited for the chance to spend some-” _

_ “My  _ dad? _ Fucking hell. How does my dad know we’re coming when I didn’t? He didn’t even mention it.” _

_ Armie had made the requisite phone call to both parents on Christmas morning. It had been the usual stilted, non-personal conversations they’d always had. His dad had given no indication he was expecting them to visit, nor did he seem inclined to invite them for the possibility. _

_ The thought made something cold work its way down the back of his neck. He turned, but didn’t move towards the bed, looking at his wife, sitting there, placid expression on her face as if she were unaware the turmoil that twisted his guts like a hot knife. _

_ “When did you  _ decide _ we should take this trip, Liz?” His eyes narrowed, she never waivered. Calm and cool. Always. _

_ She rolled her eyes. “I’m not blind, Armie. We’ve been together a long time, I can tell when you need some time-” _

_ “We were leaving here day after tomorrow. You were flying home with the kids and I was going to New York. We had plans already.” _

_ “Oh, no,” she gasped, placing her hand on her mouth. “I completely forgot about that, Armie.” _

_ “ _ You _ forgot?” Armie was stunned. He wanted desperately to believe her, but this woman never forgot a thing.  _

_ She made her way over to him, placed her hand on the center of his chest. “It’s been so crazy around here, it just slipped my mind.” _

_ He stepped to the side, slipping from beneath the weight of her hand. “We were just talking about it yesterday. I don’t understand.” _

_ “I don’t remember talking about it,” Armie’s look stopped whatever she was about to say next. She held up her hands in supplication. “If you say we did, then we did. But I truly don’t remember it.” _

_ The paper in Armie’s hand crinkled in his fist as he turned back to the window.  _

_ “I know it’s last minute. I just thought it would be- nice, to get away. Just us for a change. I emailed J— and made your excuses for cancelling that lunch meeting on Saturday.” _

_ “You what? Wait. Hold up,” he needed to take a breath because he was on the verge of full-fledged hostility. “You contacted my agent’s office in New York, cancelled a work lunch for me? Which is it, Liz?” _

_ “‘Which is it’?”  _

_ He swallowed, shaking his head as a laugh as bitter as bile ripped from his throat.  _

_ “You just said you ‘forgot’ about my weekend plans, but then went and rearranged them all? So, again- which is it? You either forgot or-” He knew his stare was brittle as he waited for an answer. _

_ She never blinked. _

_ “Fine. I didn’t forget. But I knew,” Here she did pause and turned her head away. “I knew that if I didn’t just go ahead and do it, you never would have agreed.” _

_ Jesus. “It’s not like I don’t want to spend time with you and-” _

_ “Do you?” Her retort was short, biting. He didn’t want to believe it was true.  _

_ Armie took a breath, the room felt littered with tiny incendiary devices. This had been a conversation a long time coming. Any wrong word or false step and they’d go off like the Fourth of July and raze the entirety of their relationship to the ground. _

_ “You know I do. You  _ know. _ ”  _

_ Everything had been especially strained since filming. He’d never known any one moment in time could be so impactful. He had, up until he arrived in that tiny, sleepy northern Italian town, thought he was a fully-formed human, but during those three months in Crema, he’d been reborn.  _

_ He was  _ trying _ , goddammit. Trying to find his way back to where he felt he belonged but he was a piece in a puzzle that no longer formed a whole. All of his edges were mismatched. _

_ He felt all wrong now; a different person wearing Armie-shaped skin. _

_ He knew it wasn’t easy, for Liz, for the kids. And though he felt it a betrayal on every level, Timmy had to be added to this equation. He had never meant for this to happen. None of it. It wasn’t fair, it wasn’t easy, but he was doing his best.  _

_ He was trying to keep it all together— to do right by everyone— but, he didn’t know exactly what Liz was trying to do. Because this? This shit felt like next level manipulation even though he knew, of all people, he had no right to that feeling. _

_ What a fucking nightmare. _

_ “Listen,” She soothed, stepping up behind him, wrapping her arms around his waist and pressing her lips between his shoulder blades. “I just wanted a chance for us to reconnect. Things have been, off, for a while.” _

_ Armie closed his eyes. He couldn’t argue. It was a fact. _

_ “And, I think,” her words were a warm press of breath against his skin. “I think maybe a little time away will not only be good for us, but, Timmy as well.” _

_ Armie couldn’t help but tense at the mention of his name. Didn’t want to think of the look of disappointment that would be etched across his face when Armie had to cancel his visit. _

_ “How will it be good for Timmy? He’s gonna be hurt I can’t make it for his birthday.” _

_ Elizabeth  stepped away from Armie with a pat to his shoulder and a laugh, bitter and terse. It rubbed Armie the wrong way, grating raw the wound on his body that never seemed to heal. Her words and actions had been doing more and more of that lately. _

_ She looked to the mirror above the dresser, tucking a strand of hair back into perfect place.  _

_ “You remember how it was. Twenty-two. He’ll be young and stupid and get wasted and won’t remember who was there or who wasn’t.” She looked at him now, eyes sharp. “That’s not really your scene anymore, is it?” _

_ No, partying like he did when he was twenty-two was no longer his scene, but Timmy hadn’t mentioned anything about a party, just ‘ _ dude, you should come, we’ll hang out. I could use a weekend to chill.’ 

_ Armie crossed his arms, his hand intermittently squeezing his bicep. _

_ “Listen, I just don’t think it’s  _ healthy _ for Timmy to be so dependent on you-” _

_ “We’re friends, Liz,” Armie quickly defended. He wasn’t going to let her run Timmy down. This wasn’t his problem. _

_ “God, I hate it when you call me that,” she groaned, turning toward the door. She paused with her hand on the knob. “It’s your choice. You can go with your family, or you can go recapture your youth with your  _ friend _.” _

_ She had been raised right and didn’t slam the door on her way out. _

All day Armie had wrestled with making the call to Timmy. There was no question what choice he would make; he had to be with his family. He  _ wanted  _ to be with his family. He loved them, but it didn’t mean he didn’t hate every second of the way it had all come about. It felt devious and underhanded, as if she were hoping he would choose his trip to New York over going with her and the kids. The way she made certain  _ everyone _ in both families knew they were going before she had ever told Armie.

No. He didn’t have a choice.

He also knew Liz was wrong, that Timmy was going to be crushed by his cancellation. All day, she kept waiting, asking if he’d texted Timmy to let him know every time he’d so much as looked at his phone. Timmy deserved more than a text and the falsely placid look she gave him when he decided to stay home with the kids that night was more than Armie needed to know she wasn’t thrilled with his decision, and need, to actually speak with Timmy.

He’d made macaroni and cheese for the three of them for dinner. With the house quiet and still, they played with legos in front of the fire and he’d pushed Ford around in his new roadster from Santa, ignoring the scuffs left behind on the wood floor of the massive living room. He gave them both baths and snuggles and read them to sleep.

Those were the moments that made it all worth it. Every struggle of every day, he was never more happy than when he was with his kids, just— being. He shuddered to think how selfish he was with a career that kept him away for too-long stretches of time and now this new, constant itch for  _ more.  _

It was the  _ more _ he couldn’t face.

As he turned the lights off in the room where the kids slept, he tried to ignore a familiar voice in his head, a heavy Italian accent reminding him to be honest with himself.  _ Always. Because you are worthy of happiness. _

There were now new moments of happiness, bright as a warm Italian summer day, that were beginning to eclipse those which had come long before. It terrified Armie. He was supposed to be settled. His family expected him to have outgrown whatever this wild inclination was that he had. But there was a restlessness inside of him now. Even stronger than the need to break out on his own, the one he hadn’t fought when he was 16 and left home, to find his own way. 

That had been a break from the confines of his family, the constraints on what they thought he should be and do. This, the feeling he struggled with now, was manifesting in a need to break free of  _ himself. _ There were parts of him he never knew he possessed and now that they’d had a chance to bask in that sunshine, they would never be satisfied to live in the shade again.

It was a constant struggle, not to allow himself to go there; to think of Timmy and Crema and those warm embraces, and kisses that fell like rain, or eyes like sky looking up at him, open and so full of love. 

It was a moment out of time— precious and treasured— and it should never have happened, but it haunted Armie. Something fundamental had broken loose inside him he didn’t know how to fix. 

Maybe the answer  _ was  _ time and distance, the great equalizer. Were these feelings, bubbling, hovering, beneath the surface of his skin, due to proximity and being together again, having to talk about the filming and rehash every intimate moment? Was he doing Timmy a disservice by inadvertently sending him mixed signals? 

Were these mixed signals?

God, he just didn’t fucking know what he was doing anymore.

So, he had put off texting, calling, getting in touch with Timmy all day. He was dreading it, but as the minutes slowly crept closer and closer to midnight, he knew it was nothing but cowardly to put it off until the last moments of Timmy’s birthday. Elizabeth had laughed when he’d told her he didn’t want to ruin his day. 

Armie  _ hoped  _ it wasn’t hubris to believe Timmy would care that he wasn’t going to be able to visit for the weekend. He was unable to forget Elizabeth’s laugh from earlier and how quick she had been to remind him how young Timmy was  and insinuated he had plenty of friends in the city to make up for Armie’s absence.

But Armie knew Timmy  _ would  _ care.  _ Did  _ care. Too much

When had that begun? 

It was a redundant question when all Armie had to do was look at the face smiling back at him on the phone in his hand and see the answer. 

Armie dropped to the edge of his bed under the weight of it all and closed his eyes. It was too hard to look at Timmy—the neon-bright smile of a Christmas morning the moment he’d seen Armie on his phone. His smile just as he always envisioned—broad, open, happy. 

Timmy was the most phenomenal actor Armie had ever met—let alone had the good fortune to work with—but he was shit at hiding what he thought or felt. Everything played out on his face for the world to see. It was worrisome but Armie didn’t begrudge him his openness. In fact it endeared him to Timmy even more, he envied it; he coveted it—especially when it was aimed at Armie himself. 

Timmy’s shining eyes and warm sweet smile Armie only ever hoped was his alone to see, reminded him of the cruel reality of their situation. Untenable. Timmy was practically on the other side of the world but Armie wanted him close. He missed Timmy with every fibre of his being. He missed the smell of his hair after hours spent in the sun. He missed the tilt of his head as he listened with the everything he had as Armie spoke about anything or nothing at all. Armie missed the knob of his knees; the bend of his elbow. He missed the taste of his kisses and the gentleness of his wiry arms wrapped around his neck. 

"I'm glad-" the excitement in Timmy’s voice made Armie’s heart clench. "I'm glad you called. I was just thinking about the weekend. What we could do. I found this old cinema in Brooklyn. They're doing a Rosenberg retrospective. Showing Cool Hand Luke Saturday night, thought we'd catch that. What time does your flight get in?"

The grandfather clock in the hall outside their bedroom ticked. 

"Timmy-"

"We could get reservations for dinner. I know you'll be starving after your flight-"

"Timmy." Armie interjected, more forcefully than he intended, but it was breaking his heart to let him continue.

"Tim, listen- Listen, I'm sorry," Armie closed his eyes, unwilling— no, too weak— to accept the disappointment he knew he was about to see, but was forced to open them when he heard a loud noise from Timmy’s phone. 

Timmy was no longer on the screen. Armie could barely make out through the dim light of where Timmy was, the shape of a potted palm in the corner of the screen.

"Tea, talk to me. I can't see you. Let me see you."

Armie knew he sounded desperate. He  _ was  _ desperate. If he could reach through the phone, just touch him, slip his fingers through his hair. It had gotten so long.

The phone shifted, bringing Timmy back into view. He was sitting now, the phone closer, the screen nothing but his face. His eyes, dark and wide and lost, stared directly into Armie’s from two thousand miles away.

Armie’s heart sank like a stone. "Aw, Timmy."  

Armie swallowed, his throat suddenly tight. His eyes burned but he couldn’t look away. "Elizabeth just sprung this on me, a New Year's gift.” This was all so wrong and he felt at the end of his rope, unable to come up with the words to make Timmy understand.  

“Like, I don't know when that became a thing, but. She said she forgot about me heading over there. She's already made all these plans for us, and the kids," It was a sorry explanation. A sorry excuse, he groaned in frustration, scrubbing his face to keep from— god— he felt like crying.  

Armie didn’t even fight to hide the desperation in his voice. "You gotta know I want to be there, Tea. You gotta-"

"Do I?" Timmy’s abrupt response threw Armie off-kilter. It too closely echoed Elizabeth’s own retort from earlier that morning. 

But where Elizabeth’s had been laced with accusation, Timmy’s— though brusque— revealed just how much Timmy underestimated Armie’s devotion.

His willingness to speak up now, to force Armie to understand he wasn’t content to remain quiet and allow Armie all the power was something Armie would never get used to. Timmy had been the only person Armie had ever met that understood Armie’s  _ proclivity _ to be in charge, of all things. But what Timmy also had miraculously understood— without Armie ever saying a word— was that Armie liked a challenge.

Timmy was always up for the task, his lean, lithe body deceptively hiding his true strength and only amplifying Armie’s attraction to him. 

"Timmy, come on, man," Soft, urgent.

If he had to beg to make Timmy to understand, he would. Armie couldn’t stand the thought this was hurting Timmy as much as it was hurting himself. 

A smile spread across Timmy’s face Armie, freezing the blood in his veins. It didn’t reach his eyes, and Timmy didn’t care for Armie to see it. In fact, his eyes— cold and flat like he had never seen them— _dared_ Armie to see. 

"I know. It's okay. I get it, it's no big deal," the artifice made Armie’s stomach turn. 

His head was going to explode. Armie wanted to throw something. To yell and tear this entire house to the ground. 

"We'll see each other next week. S'all good."

Armie felt like dying, his mind screaming for Timmy to  _ just understand.  _

What choice did he have?

"I should get going. Been a long day and I'm beat."

The fingers of Armie’s free hand dug into his thigh, hard enough he knew there would be fingertip shaped bruises there tomorrow. 

_ Please. _

"I don't want to go with you upset-"

"No, honestly. I'm good. A family vacation sounds nice. I hope you guys have a great time."  

God, help him, it was the last thing Armie wanted.

"I'll text you." The offer was lame, inadequate and Armie swallowed past the rising wave of anguish.

"Thanks for the birthday wishes. Have a great trip."

The screen went black before Armie could say anything else. Armie wiped his eyes with the back of his forearm, his mind reeling. 

It wasn’t supposed to be like this, but it was all his fault. He was hurting everyone he cared about— loved. Maybe Luca had been wrong, he wasn’t a good man. He didn’t deserve happiness because all he gave in return was pain.

He pulled up Timmy’s name in his phone, unable to leave it alone, to let him have his pain. Armie wanted to make it okay. How could he ever make things right when he was the problem?  

**< Don't be angry. Please.>**

 

 

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> I'm [foryou-insilence](foryou-insilence.tumblr.com) on Tumblr. Come say hi!


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